The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs
by craystiel
Summary: AU: It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.
1. The Mundane Life

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (1/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.  
**Notes: **This is a WIP and I'm done with about 3 chapters. But its the holidays and its busy, so updates when I can. Promise it won't be too long between entries :) Beta'd by the lovely TruffleHead once again. Thank you honey.

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

* * *

Everything had changed a few months ago. It went from fighting and blood, to peace and pie. To the life Dean Winchester had always known, to the unknown and the unfamiliar. This wasn't what he'd had with Lisa, and it definitely wasn't what he'd had with Sam. It was life, he was living, but he'd never been taught how to do that.

It was 4 am. He'd stopped sleeping since they'd stopped sleeping in motels. It seemed strange, but a cheap mattress and creaky floorboards actually helped him sleep, with all the memories they brought with them. He actually missed those things.

Dean seemed always rid with nightmares and sleeping pills, nowadays. He tossed and turned. The room was dark, but his eyes had since adjusted, so he just laid there. Awake, aware, and scared. He could hear the comfortable and familiar sound of Sam snoring just a room away and smiled. Some things never changed. He cleared his throat and turned into the sound. Home. There was a photo of Cas and Sam to his left. It was sunny and they were both smiling. Dean felt his heart tighten. Next to it was the last family photo he could remember. Bobby, Ellen, and Jo, all alive and looking worried. He turned onto his back, his jaw clenched.

"Dean." The voice was soft and deep. The familiar warm tone of Castiel.

"Hey, Cas." Dean didn't move. Cas came to sit beside him on the bed.

"Still cannot sleep?" Cas moved the hair from Deans eyes.

Dean wasn't entirely sure when their relationship had changed. He remembered the subtle looks and the soft touches to his shoulder, Cas' handprint still burning a hole in his heart. Then all of a sudden, it was more than a touch on the shoulder. It was small kisses on the cheek and a gentle squeeze of the hand. It was more.

Dean found himself smiling.

"Did you want to pray to me, Dean?"

"Cas, that only helped in purgatory." Dean let a chuckle escape his tired body.

"Nonetheless, I do like your prayers." Cas tenderly played with Deans hair. Dean sighed, leaning into his touch, liking the way it was starting to feel normal. As if they'd been doing this their entire lives; that this is how he was meant to spend the rest of his. Cas on the side of his bed, playing with his hair and talking him to sleep. Comfortable and real. Like nothing he'd had before.

"I'll let you get some rest." Cas went to stand.

"Stay." Dean pulled him down again, "Just talk to me, I don't care what about, just talk." And so Cas talked, and Dean barely listened as Cas gently dragged the strands of Deans hair between his warm fingers. He wasn't sure how long it took him to fall asleep, but without dreaming one second of a nightmare, it was morning and Cas was tucked in beside him. There was bacon cooking and the smell of breakfast swiftly woke him. He stroked Cas' arm, still appropriately dressed in his suit and trench coat, Dean was yet to see him out of it. To be honest, it hadn't occurred to him that he wanted to. Or what that meant. Or if it even meant what he thought it did. He shook his head.

"Wha- Dean?" Cas' deep voice was layered with sleep and Dean smiled. He could get very used to sleepy Cas.

"You must've fallen asleep." Dean said, amused, and stroked Cas' arm. Cas rolled over and snuggled into Deans hold. It was more. Cas' eyes blinked open and Dean gazed into the bright blue pouring into his own.

Sam was at the door then, interrupting their emotionally charged moments, as was his favorite past time.

"Guys, I made breakfast, get up." Sam picked up a t-shirt off the ground and threw it at them. He said nothing about their position, or the fact that Cas never slept in his own room anymore. He just continued to throw shirts until one of them moved.

"Okay, okay." Dean said, "Sammy I get it! I'm getting up, don't get your big boy panties in a twist."

"Hilarious, Dean." Sam pulled a bitch face and left the room.

Whatever moment they'd been having was forgotten and they both went back to being less. Cas getting out of the bed and straightening up his suit, Dean pulling on a shirt and following Cas out to their kitchen.

They had a kitchen, and that was the strangest thing of all. They had a kitchen, where they cooked food and shared meals. They had a kitchen, in a house, where they all paid rent and were settled in. Every time it crossed Deans mind, he had to pinch himself. This was his life now.

Dean watched Sam and Cas as they discussed something he wasn't listening to. This was the life of Dean Winchester. He lived with his brother and his angel and they were happy. For the most part, anyway. Both he and Sam still suffered from nightmares and flashbacks and sometimes a weird death would send one of them racing to the Impala, the salt off the table in tow, but they were trying.

Sam had been on a couple of dates with nice girls that Dean approved of. He was taking classes at the local college and just last week he'd rescued a dog from a shelter. Sam was living the life he'd always wanted. Dean was happy for him.

Cas had fudged teaching qualifications and was working at the local college. He was a professor who wore the same damn suit to work every day. He made lesson plans and spoke about the kids in his class like they were his own. He was very human now, apart from the lack of social skills. He was fallen and no longer in pain.

As for Dean, he had a job at a garage, he was working on his mechanic apprenticeship. Learning and working and earning money, to put food on the table and water in their pipes. He didn't work on the weekends anymore and he had Wednesdays off. He was living a very ordinary, mundane life.

They ate breakfast together, and an hour later both Sam and Cas had gone to the college, leaving Dean to his own devices. He hated being alone in the house now, so even though he'd be 2 hours early for work, he got ready and made his way to the garage. He didn't clock in, just helped out and talked to the guys. He felt at home here, too. It smelt like Bobby's and looked like a holiday. He couldn't talk war stories or let them in on his previous life, but he changed details and told the story of the life of the traveling spare parts salesman. A job he'd made up, but one that they'd all seemed to buy. Work flew by and before he knew it Cas was picking him up. He hadn't been driving long, but he was getting the hang of it. Sam looked scared and guilty sitting beside Cas in the impala and Dean gave the boys a wave before hopping in.

"What happened?" Dean asked, sliding into the back seat.

"Nothing of import, Dean." Castiel replied, backing out of the garage's gravel driveway.

"Sammy?" Dean leant forward, slinging his arms over the front seat.

"Yeah, uh, nothing of import." Sam coughed lightly.

"You ran into something again, didn't you Cas?" Dean raised his voice, "What did you to do my baby?"

"It was a slight bump and she's fine" Cas said very casually, too casually for him, almost as though he'd practiced it.

"Pull over."

"Dean really, it's fine." Sam said, panic in his eyes. Dean really shouldn't have let Cas learn in the Impala, but it was their only car and Cas couldn't simply fly anywhere now. He had to do human things like cook terrible food, sleep for too long and learn to drive. This was the third accident he'd had in the last week. Dean always fixed the problem and if it wasn't Cas, he wouldn't be driving it. Dean jumped out of the car and inspected the damage. He had been too busy staring into Cas' smiling eyes when he'd been picked up that he didn't notice the giant scratch up her side.

"Baby," Dean sighed, running his hand alongside the injury.

"Like I said, nothing of import." Cas cleared his throat. Dean shot him a glare and Sam gulped loudly.

"It wasn't Cas' fault, really!" Sam said, "That newspaper stand came out of nowhere!"

"Shut up," Dean waved his hand.

Eventually they made their way back home, Dean was crabby and Sam and Cas remained silent. When they pulled in the driveway, Sam rushed inside, dropping a book or two on the way.

"I am sorry." Cas said, gently taking Deans hand in his own.

"It's okay, Cas, I'll fix her up." Dean placed his free hand on top of Castiel's.

"Every time I try and reverse," Cas shook his head.

"I'll take you for a lesson on Wednesday, after your morning class." Dean squeezed Cas' hand and they both smiled. It was more.

The rest of the evening was mundane, boring. They cooked dinner, Dean turned on a movie, Sam studied, and Cas marked papers. They were a family. Domestic and simple. Yet every single time Dean closed his eyes, all he could see were the monsters of his past, coming back to haunt him. The people he didn't save, screaming in pain. The mistakes he made, splashed out in bold colours. He was struggling with mundane, after all the things he'd seen. He was struggling with normal, when all he'd ever had was weird.

Cas came into his bedroom in the early morning nearly always, now. He stroked Deans hair and talked him to sleep.

He might've never had normal, but if this is what it was, he could probably get used to it.


	2. Sunday Fun-Day

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (2/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.  
**Notes: **This is a WIP and I'm done with about 3 chapters. But its the holidays and its busy, so updates when I can. Promise it won't be too long between entries :) Beta'd by the lovely TruffleHead once again. Thank you honey.

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

* * *

It was just another day. The early morning sun was bright. Dean hadn't slept, of course, but he had nothing to get up for, so was content to stay in bed all day. It was Sunday, a day Dean Winchester considered holy in all respects. It was his little family's day of rest. No class, no work, no anything. Just food, laughter and sleep. It was the one day a week that he looked forward to. It was the one day a week he didn't have to pretend to be anyone or anything, he could just be with Sammy and Cas. Everything seemed much simpler and more... _real_.

He looked at the photo of Cas and Sam to his left. It was taken on their first week of this new life. Their first Sunday, where they'd thrown a football around and had a barbecue for Christ's sake. Ever since then, Sundays had become a tradition. Relaxation and the three of them were the only two rules.

Cas was snuggled into his side, hair a mess, trench coat twisted. Dean wanted to take it off of him, just for the sheer fact that it looked ridiculously uncomfortable. Not for any other reason. Of course not.

Cas' breath tickled his skin lightly, silent kisses of air telling him things had changed, for the better, and Dean knew they had. All the hunts they went on, all the cases they worked, he never once woke up with Cas snuggled into his side. He would sometimes be standing above him, or by the window, trying to respect Deans "personal space" rule. But he never got this. This warmth felt like all the wrongs he'd done had led him to the right place in the end. Dean had never believed in love; he believed in family and loyalty, and that had been the end of it. But when they had moved into this tiny little house in the suburbs, Cas had become more than family. He had become Dean's best friend, his lullaby, and the only thing Dean valued a little more than the Impala and Sam.

Cas had become everything. Dean had never been taught how to deal with emotions like that. So whatever they had, whatever this was, it like everything else in his life would die at his hands.

Cas stirred and Dean pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. It was Sunday, after all.

"Dean." Cas' voice was thick with sleep.

"Morning, Cas." He swept the hair from Cas' eyes.

"It's Sunday." Cas smiled, wide and toothy. Rare, bright. The only thing Dean ever felt like he'd won. Dean traced the laugh lines and Cas' cheeks burned red. It was more. The electricity between the two had never been so strong. The feel of Cas' rough skin against his own felt like a shift in the universe, heavy and powerful and something Dean wasn't equipped to deal with. Cas moved closer, his cheeks softening to a light pink, his smile falling into a hard line, determined and freaking hot. Dean shivered.

Like clockwork, Sam burst through the door, his face lit up.

"I had a great idea." He grabbed onto the doorframe and smirked.

"I can feel myself regretting this already." Dean said, trying to remain composed as Cas' leg slowly slid up his. A little smirk found its way onto Cas' lips and Dean coughed.

"Well, what is it?" Dean could feel his cheeks heating. Sam tilted his head to the side slightly, then quickly shook it. Dean gulped.

"It's a surprise" Sam wiggled his eyebrows mockingly and fled from the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Really, Cas?" Dean pushed out a long, heavy breath.

"I apologise, I'm not sure what came over me." And with those few words, it went back to being less. Cas slid out of Dean's hold and off of the bed in one swift movement. After Cas had left the room, Dean rolled onto his back and sighed. He had accidentally shifted their relationship from sparking electricity and heat to an awkward silence and an empty bed. Again.

He didn't know how to do this. This was Cas. Someone he's known for years. His best friend, his angel. The only thing that wasn't family that stuck around because it wanted to. Dean wasn't even aware of his feelings for Cas. The change in their relationship felt natural, like it was the direction it had always been heading, but Dean somehow always halted its process, stopped it from moving forward in the direction both Cas and himself obviously wanted it to go.

xXx

They were all in the Impala. Sam was driving, and Cas was in the backseat with - much to Dean's dismay - Jimmy, the dog. Dean wasn't entirely excited. The mood for their usual fun-day Sunday had been ruined this morning and Dean had been struggling to get it back. The dog slobbering all over his baby wasn't helping.

"Sam, your animal is licking my face." Cas said, disgruntled.

"Relax, Cas, it just means he likes you." Sam laughed.

"I'm not certain the feeling is mutual at this stage." Cas groaned, "He's a little forward." Sam laughed loudly and Dean grabbed his camera to take a photo of the lovers on the back seat. Cas gave him a shy smile and just like that, it felt like Sunday again.

They ended up at the beach about 20 minutes into their drive. Sam put Jimmy on his lead and they all approached the white sand, looking overdressed and awkward. They weren't the type that belonged on a beach. And, to be honest, their wardrobe hadn't exactly changed to fit their new lifestyle.

"Nobody said anything about the freakin' beach, Sam." Dean wiped sweat from his forehead, taking off one of his layers. Sam rolled his eyes and started walking down the sandy path in front of them.

"I don't do the beach." Dean muttered to himself, following Sam and Jimmy down onto the bright, uneven ground. Cas followed close behind and they both unsteadily followed Sam to a large group of people swimming on the beach.

"Oh God no." Dean took in the picture in front of him. People in wetsuits, on surfboards, paddling in the sand. "We are not-"

"Oh yes we are." Sam smiled, tying Jimmy's lead to a rock and joining the group.

"Am I going to have to put on one of those suits?" Cas asked.

Dean laughed. "I'd pay to see that."

"Come on, guys!" Sam called.

"You know, I always knew you were one of those weird fitness junkies who actually enjoyed exercise and salad." Dean said once they reached the group, "but surfing, Sammy, really?" Sam didn't respond, just pulled a face.

"I'm not wearing one of those." Dean pointed to a few of the people in wetsuits. Sam pulled another face.

"Sam, I also don't want to wear that skin tight bodysuit." Cas bent down to where Sam was pulling something out of his bag. Sam chucked a pair of shorts at both of them.

"I don't do shorts either, Sammy." Dean smirked.

"Stop chucking a bitch fit and just put them on, Dean." An icy glare was shot in his direction, "you too, Cas; off you go."

When Dean returned wearing a hideous pair of hawaiian board shorts, he could see Sam talking with what looked to be the instructor. Dean scanned his surroundings for Cas, like he unconsciously did whenever he went anywhere.

"Dean." Cas sounded completely mortified. Dean turned around to a half naked Castiel in a pair of equally hideous board shorts.

"I look ridiculous." Cas groaned. "I used to be a soldier, an angel of the Lord." He huffed, throwing his arms by his sides.

"You-" Dean had no words, for once in his life. He stared, mouth wide open, at the practically naked, ex-angel of the Lord in front of him.

"Dean, are you-?"

"Lets go embarrass ourselves, shall we?" He smirked. "After you"

Cas walked ahead and Dean adjusted his shorts while thinking the most un-sexy thoughts he could. He would not get a preemptive boner on the beach in ugly shorts over an ex-angel of the Lord. No he would not.

Dean felt silly. He was on a surfboard, on the sand, learning a skill he was probably never going to use again. But it was a Sunday, and he was with his brother and his best friend. It simply didn't matter that he was making a fool of himself. Cas actually got quite good at it, and was the first of the three of them to go in the water and actually stand up. He looked unbearably cute in his flowered board shorts, smiling brightly and looking way too proud of himself. Dean felt his heart tighten. Sam was way too lanky and just couldn't get the hang of it. Dean stood up once in the water, but fell off around what felt like a million times.

Sam and Dean didn't spend much time on the boards, instead opting for swimming with Jimmy, while Cas continued to show off. It possibly may have been Deans favourite Sunday yet. Cas; wet, half naked, smiling. It was the most pure and beautiful thing he'd probably ever witnessed and it filled his whole body with a lightness he couldn't describe.

They headed home in the early afternoon. Cas was driving, Dean next to him, while Sammy was crashed out on the back seat with a forever slobbering Jimmy. They looked like a family to him, a weird and dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless. Dean smiled wide, toothy, and rare. Cas looked over at him, the same smile on his face.

"Look at the road, Cas." Dean put on a slightly fake bravado.

"Alright, Dean." Cas smiled again, turning to face the road. A second later, however, a hand came off the steering wheel and found its way into Dean's. A light pink flashed onto Cas' cheek and at that Dean tightened his hand. This is what living life is all about, right?

They made it home in the early evening. The street was dead quiet, and all the lights were off. It'd been awhile, but something just wasn't right about this picture. Dean grabbed a gun from the glove compartment.

And then, all of a sudden, everything changed again.


	3. We Don't Hunt Anymore

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (3/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **A little of season 8.  
**Warnings: **Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.  
**Beta: **TruffleHead (Thanks again!)  
**Notes:** Sorry to leave you guys hanging, the holidays got a little hectic. Hope you all had a merry time!

**Summary: **Its been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

* * *

Castiel was the first to confront Dean, placing his hand on the gun and lowering it.

"Everything is fine, Dean, there is no need for the firearm."

"You're kidding, right?" Dean raised his voice to a harsh whisper. "Our busy little suburban street is dead quiet and pitch black- there is every need for the firearm!"

"Cas is right, Dean, we're just overreacting, after everything we've seen." Sam took the gun from Dean's hands.

"Okay okay, no guns," Dean pushed out a laugh, "but we should at least check it out." He tried to regain composure, but his heart was racing and there was sweat breaking out on his forehead despite the cool evening breeze.

Dean Winchester wasn't one to freak out, he'd been doing this his entire life. He knew the life of a hunter better than most. Hell, he hunted better than most, but it'd been months since they'd hunted anything. Months since they'd all risked their lives, yet again, for the fate of a world who didn't know their names. And they'd won, again. But at what cost, this time? Lives were lost and ruined and it didn't matter how many creatures they took down anymore, because there was always going to be something to take its place. So after a few hundred celebration drinks and consoling a confused and very broken Cas to sleep, they had decided on a new direction- one that didn't involve them dying in the next ten years, or even earlier.

"Dean," Cas placed a hand on his cheek, "we don't hunt anymore." Cas was smiling, but there was worry etched deep in his features. Dean shook off the thought that something had finally caught up with them and managed a little nod. The hand that had been on his cheek brushed his fingertips lightly before sliding into the pocket of his favourite trench coat. Dean chanced one last glance out at the dark street before following Cas and Sam inside.

He remained distracted for the entire night. They were all in the lounge room, finishing off their Sunday by watching a movie. It was Sam's week to pick, hence why they were watching a terribly boring documentary on something Dean probably wouldn't care about even if he'd been paying attention. Sam and Cas were on the couch and Dean was sitting on the floor in front of Cas, Jimmy stretched out across his lap. He had to admit, he was warming up to the dog, although he would never tell Sam that. Cas was running his fingers through Dean's hair absentmindedly but Dean barely noticed, nor appreciated the loving gesture.

He went to bed halfway through the movie, making some half assed joke about it being a yawn fest, or something along those lines. He saw Sam give Cas a look, but he didn't stop to talk about it, heading straight to his room.

He couldn't sleep that night. Not like that was unusual for him, but tonight his dreams were being held hostage by an abundance of bad memories. He could still remember everything from their last hunt, the day they closed the gates of hell forever. The smell, the sounds, even the taste of dust in the harsh wind. He remembered everything and it all came bounding back in harsh colours of waste and young life. He could almost still _feel_ Kevin clinging to his hand for dear life, only to have him slip through his fingers and get trapped behind those gates. He could hear the screams and he could smell burning flesh and everyone was always dying and he couldn't save anyone, he couldn't save a single soul...

"Dean! Dean, wake up! You're having a nightmare!" Someone was shaking him, "Dean, wake up!"

"Cas?" He breathed out, opening his eyes. As they adjusted to the darkness, the sensations of burning flesh and Kevin screaming out his name for help slowly started to fade and instead were replaced with big blue eyes, dark with concern.

"You were screaming out for help, Dean, I came in at once. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just- bad dream." He attempted to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Kevin again?" Cas asked.

"It's nothing, Cas, really." Dean wiped sweat from his forehead.

"It's about the street then?" Cas placed a cool hand on Deans chest.

"Something wasn't right." Dean shook his head.

"We'll investigate tomorrow, you need some rest." Cas' thumb was rubbing smooth, easy circles against his skin and Dean sighed.

"I'll-" Cas went to get up, Dean grabbed him by the coat.

"I think we both know by now that I don't want you to leave. Just-" Dean paused, he was obviously still half asleep otherwise these words never would've left his mouth, "Just lay down with me. Stay, please."

Castiel obliged immediately, pressing his body close to Dean's. Dean wrapped an arm around the warm body beside him and buried his head in Cas' neck.

"I feel safe when you're here Cas, like nothing could ever harm me." Dean whispered against Cas' skin.

"I'm merely human now, Dean, there's no way I can protect you like I used to." Dean didn't reply, just laughed and pulled Cas a little closer. Cas took the hand holding him close and entwined it with his own. It was more. Dean didn't have any more nightmares that night.

They were still wrapped tightly together the next morning. Dean woke first, the tie from Cas' coat strangling and ripping him from his dreams. He accidentally woke Cas trying to untangle it from around himself.

"Sorry," Cas groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"We're getting you pajamas. This," Dean slid the coat off of Cas' shoulders, "Is getting ridiculous."

"It reminds me of Jimmy and his great sacrifice," Cas yawned, snuggling into Dean again, "And of my former status."

"We're never gonna forget Jimmy, Cas, not after you insisted we name the dog after him." Dean laughed, "And the coat can stay, just don't _sleep _in it. Death by trench coat is not the way I wanna go."

This was the way Dean imagined the rest of his life. He didn't care too much about the details, about the where's or the what's. All he cared about was this. Cas snuggling into him, wearing a ridiculously goofy grin for that of a former angel. No, it didn't matter where they were now, or what they were doing, it just mattered that they had each other. Dean had never been the type to think about the future, but every time he looked into Cas' eyes, he could see nothing but the life they had in front of them.

Mondays were his favourite. Sam had class early, so Cas and Dean didn't have to leave the house until after lunch. No Sam meant long emotionally charged moments that could actually go somewhere. Cas entwined their hands and sighed. This was one of those moments.

"Dean." Cas tilted his head to look up at him. "Do you recall what you said last night?"

"Yeah, Cas." Dean smiled, and Cas did too.

"I feel safe with you, too. Dean... protected." Cas propped himself up onto his elbow, "When I first fell, I felt very weak and useless, but living here," The finger tips from Cas' free hand slowly grazed Deans face, "Being by your side still, sharing these moments," Cas chuckled, "I feel stronger than ever, I feel very human. For the first time, I feel that maybe falling wasn't such a bad thing because I got to fa-" Deans phone buzzed beside them, interrupting Cas mid sentence.

"If that's Sam, I swear to God..." Dean reached behind Cas to grab his phone. A text, from Sam.

"Even when he's not here, he's here." Dean muttered, before replying, "Apparently I have the day off." Dean actually wiggled his eyebrows. "Feel like ditching class?" But somewhere between the heartfelt confession and an annoying text message, their relationship had shifted once more.

"I should get ready for class." Cas lent a shy smile, getting off of the bed and leaving the room.

"Sure." Dean replied to an empty room once the door had shut. It was less.

xXx

Dean didn't like being in their house alone. He did menial chores, watched TV, and cooked dinner early, but it was still 2 hours until somebody would be home. He paced the living room a few hundred times before barreling down their basement steps and opening up their weapons arsenal, which hadn't seen the outside world for over three months.

"I'm not being paranoid," Dean muttered to himself while rummaging through a bag full of guns, "I'm just being thorough, keeping us safe." He pulled out the gun he was looking for and shook his head, "Great, and now I'm talking to myself".

Dean wasn't too sure what he was doing, to be honest. It was daylight still, barely, but the point remained. He didn't really even know what he was looking for, yet he was still pacing the street looking for something suspicious. There was nothing. He scanned the street until it got dark. He snuck behind the scenes of the suburban family homes and crouched down in bushes like a creepy neighborhood peeper.

He was just about to give up, when he saw it. It was out of the corner of his eye and his torch had been frittzing at the time, but he still saw it. He felt like he was hallucinating. He spent so much time worrying that something had been coming to get them, that he didn't stop to think about what they would actually do if he'd been right. And he was right. His heart tightened as he approached their next door neighbor's shed. He crouched down and placed his finger in the dust before him. Sulfur. He gulped. Their cozy little life in the suburbs was over.

When Sammy and Cas got home, Dean surprised them with beers and pizza in the kitchen. Their little wooden kitchen. In their little white picket house. In their busy little suburban street. He was the one that had to break the bad news. This wasn't going to be easy. They weren't a team anymore. Sammy wasn't broken, Cas wasn't an angel, and Dean wasn't anything he could ever even remember being. No they weren't a team now, they were a family. And they didn't hunt anymore. Nor did they want to.

"I found sulfur next door today." Dean smirked, "It looks like we forgot to lock the gate."


	4. The Good, The Garth & The Not-So-Demonic

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (4/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **M (I guess I'm not sure)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.  
**Beta:** TruffleHead :)  
**Notes: **This took ages, I'm sorry. Its extra long, because it took me extra long haha. Enjoy :)

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

* * *

The scalding hot water rushed from the shower head, washing off the harsh words of the night as it ran over Dean's skin and down into the drain. The news about the sulphur hadn't gone over very well. Sam had been the most upset, his large, gigantor body practically knocking over the table in all his haste to get up and yell at Dean. And Sam yelled all right, he yelled 'till he was blue in the face. He said a lot of, "I'm not sacrificing this life, we're not ruining this, we deserve this after all we've done". And Dean fought back. "I'm trying to keep us safe, I'm fighting for this life we've built just as much as you, I want this, I want our family, but we need to protect it, ignoring the problem's only gonna make it worse".

Cas had stayed silent, for the most part; he knew by now that getting in the middle of one of their arguments was pointless and didn't get anyone anywhere. They screamed the same arguments over and over until there was nothing left to say, until Dean gave up and Sam stormed off and Cas had been left in a quiet, empty room.

Sam had been right, of course. He usually was. Dean simply didn't want to admit it. He never did.

They were out of the family business and they were somewhat okay and one possible low level demon shouldn't scare them into going backwards. They'd all worked so hard for this. They'd all become respectful members of society, with jobs and legal credit cards and monthly bills they sometimes struggled to pay. It took all of them a lot to become the people they were today, and they were still on the mend. They were still becoming full functional human beings that had emotional connections and Sunday barbecues. They were trying, and although progress may be slow, Dean was the happiest he'd probably ever been. As much as he wanted to keep their little family safe, he also didn't want to ruin their lives. There had to be a happy medium here, he just had to find it.

The first thing he noticed when he walked into his room was Cas' trench coat, suit jacket and tie laying on his brown leather chair in the corner. His eyes trailed to the bed where Cas was curled up into a ball, eyes closed. This was different, it was nice. Cas usually came in during the night, crawling into Dean's bed on the excuse of a nightmare, and they would talk. So they'd talk when they were both half asleep and had no barriers to battle in order to get what they wanted. But tonight Cas was already here, stripped of his security blanket and smiling peacefully, wrapped tightly in Dean's covers. Dean smiled.

It was more.

Dean crawled in bed beside him, scooching in a little closer than necessary. Cas groaned and stretched before opening his eyes. Dean smiled again, a little wider this time. Sleepy Cas was his favourite, after all.

"Did I wake you?"

"Mm," Cas yawned, filling the remaining space between them, leaving barely an inch of room. "I came in to talk to you about tonight. I suppose fell asleep." He let out another little yawn at the end and as adorable as Cas looked right at that moment, Dean groaned and turned over.

"Can we not talk about tonight."

Cas leaned over 'till he was practically on top of Dean.

"It was not my intention to upset you," Cas took one of Dean's hands in his own, "but I think we need to discuss the possibility of giving up, of moving on from here." Cas stroked Dean's hand in soft circles. "Maybe we should go back to hunting, Dean. Something is always going to find us. We're unprotected here, we're out in the open, ready for the taking. We're easy pickings." Cas sounded scared and at that, Dean caved. All the frustration he'd been building the entire evening just fell away. He turned over and stared into Cas' eyes, their usual bright blue darkened by the shadows of the dark room or fear, he wasn't sure.

"Cas, it's fine, we're gonna be fine, we don't have to-" Dean shook his head.

Their hands clasped together tightly, the energy in the room shifting from comfortable to heated in a matter of moments. Dean's breath exchanged with Cas' as their noses brushed lightly for the briefest of moments. Cas' lips were so close.

All he'd ever wanted was so close.

He'd never realised it, of course, that this is what he'd wanted all along. He'd never laid in bed at night in a crappy motel room and wished Cas was there in his arms, so close that he could've tasted his breath. But now that he had it, he wasn't giving it up. Cas made him feel something, after all this time, and all he could think to describe this feeling that made him feel heavy and light all at the same time, was good. It felt good. It _was_ good. And he wasn't going back. He may have thought he was born to be a hunter, but he was wrong. Hunting had been a stepping stone. Because he had to meet Cas and he had to be close to Sammy so that he could have this. This house, this family, this life, this moment right here, right now. Cas placed a hand on Dean's cheek and let his thumb run over the stubble.

"Cas..." Dean let out a long shaky breath.

He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, could feel his fingers and toes losing life. His mouth felt dry and his lungs felt as though they were closing up, not even allowing one last breath. Cas kept his warm hand on Dean's cheek, his eyes practically shinning into Deans'. This was their fork in the road moment. Was it left or right, up or down, friends or more?

Dean didn't know if he had the courage to make the move. To show Cas what those little gestures meant to him. What _he_ meant to him. The air in the room felt like it was getting thicker and thicker; Dean expected to suffocate at any moment. Yet, instead, he felt Cas' lips brush against his own.

Tentative, light and brief, but also full, sweet and warm. It felt nice, it felt real, and it felt like home. Cas pulled away quickly, putting his head down.

"Cas." He whispered. His own voice sounded foreign to him, harsh and thick, like he'd just recovered from a cold. But most of all, he sounded shocked- and that's the last thing he was. He'd wanted that kiss, he wanted Cas.

"I-I apologize Dean, I'm not sure what I wa-" Dean cut him off by pressing his lips against the shaky ones before him, interrupting Cas' protests mid sentence. The kiss was much more intense than the first one, and for a second Cas' passionate kiss with Meg flashed into his mind. Cas took control immediately, wrapping his arms around Dean's neck and deepening the kiss by sliding his tongue in between Dean's slightly hesitant lips. It was much more than Dean had ever imagined it to be. It felt as though his lungs were filling up with water- like he was going under- and fast- but at the same time, he'd never felt so peaceful, so safe, so whole. He was drowning as he was being saved all over again by Cas.

And yet, the kiss only became _more_ heated. Dean was pushed onto his back as Cas climbed on top, pinning Deans arms behind his head and entwining their fingers together. All the girls he'd been with, all the supposedly 'great' sex he'd had, all of that was nothing compared to innocently making out on his bed with Cas. It was hot and heavy and Dean had to keep reminding himself to breathe. Cas' mouth trailed kisses along Dean's jaw before moving down his neck, sucking on the skin there while his hands roamed Deans bare chest. Dean let a groan slip between his lips, being completely unable to hold it in while Cas did whatever he'd learnt from the pizza man, to his neck.

"Cas, maybe we- ah- should..." Dean attempted to speak between heavy breaths and unexpected moans, "cool it down a little?"

"Ah, yes, ahem," Cas cleared his throat, shifting his body off of Dean's lap and onto the bed next to him, "You're right, we should ah- get some rest." Cas turned away. Dean had never heard Cas sound so out of character, so awkward. He felt guilty immediately. Dean didn't know what to say, but he also knew he didn't want to go back to how they were before, and actions have always meant more to Dean than words, so he leaned over Cas and lightly pressed his lips to Cas' cheek before wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

"'Night, Cas."

"Goodnight, Dean"

xXx

Dean woke early to the morning sun beaming through the windows beside his bed. He'd forgotten to close the curtains last night he noticed as his eyes opened and strained against the bright morning light. He stretched out to grab Cas and pull him closer, and that's when he noticed he'd woken alone. He sat up and rubbed his eyes before looking at the clock: 6am. His ears kicked in and he heard talking in the kitchen. He pulled a shirt on and stumbled out towards the voices, rubbing his eyes every few seconds. Why on earth were they up so early?

"Dean!" said a voice he'd recognize anywhere. Before he got a chance to object, two lanky arms were wrapping around his neck. "Ugh, I've missed you!"

"Garth?" Dean squeezed out a breath. Garth released him and straightened Bobby's old hat on top of his head.

"Uh, what are you doing here?" Dean looked around the kitchen, where he found Sam serving up breakfast and Cas sitting at the table casually, still without his coat, jacket, and tie.

"Sam called last night, and I was in the neighborhood." Garth said, grabbing a piece of bacon and sticking half of it straight in his mouth, "Mm, Sam, good. Now, apparently you're having a demon problem?" he asked, waving the bacon around in his hand.

Dean shook his head, "No, not exactly." Sam passed Dean a plate and he sat down next to Cas at the table, who smiled at him brightly, briefly flashing his teeth. "I found some sulfur next door, in the garage, and I- well, we haven't investigated further."

"And now we don't need to," Cas said, "as Garth volunteered."

"Yeah, okay we're just gonna send Garth out to investigate our own neighborhood, because we can't just do it ourselves." Dean grunted.

"Dean we _can't_ just 'do it ourselves'." Sam sighed. "Look, we fought about this a lot last night, but I think this is the best solution." Sam moved to sit beside Dean at the table, "We want to keep our lives here, and the only way we're gonna be able to do that is if we keep hidden and safe and get another hunter to check it out."

"Sam's right, Dean, it's easier this way." Cas smiled, placing his hand over Dean's and stroking it lightly.

Dean pulled away, "Ugh. Fine"

"I'll see you guys later." Garth smirked, sticking his thumbs up, before leaving through the door in the kitchen.

"For the record," Dean stood up, "I do not like this one bit." Sam and Cas exchanged a look, but Dean ignored it and stormed off towards his bedroom.

Garth returned a few hours later, pizzas and beer in tow. Dean only left his bedroom on the promise of food and information.

"Please tell me you found something out?" Dean asked, grabbing a beer.

"Garth never comes back empty handed!" Garth went to open a beer and Sam grabbed it quickly, passing it to Cas. "Really guys, still? You'll let me make sure your neighborhood is safe and demon free but I can't have one beer?"

"You're just much more fun sober." Dean said with a mouthful of pizza.

"Yeah." Sam smiled, rolling his eyes as he turned away.

"Sure. Okay I asked around the neighborhood, did the whole song and dance-"

"And?" Dean interrupted.

"And whatever was here ain't here anymore." Garth took a bite of his pizza and smiled.

"You're sure?" Dean asked.

"Yes."

"100% Sure?" Sam asked

"Yeah."

"We're completely safe?" Cas asked

"Safe from the supernatural, yes. Safe from tacky suburbanites and block parties." Garth shrugged, taking another bite of pizza.

xXx

Dean fell into bed hours later, a little more drunk than he'd intended on getting. Cas fell in beside him, much more drunk than all of them combined.

"I believe I am-" Cas burped, giggling afterwards, "Not used to this whole drinking thing yet."

"You're cute when you're drunk." Dean placed a sloppy kiss to Cas' lips. Cas returned the kiss and they lazily made out, giggling and smiling the whole time.

"If I'm so cute," Cas said between kisses, "Why did you ignore me half the night?"

Dean pulled away and sighed, "I thought we could keep this," Dean kissed Cas and they both giggled, "between us for now."

"Oh." Cas pulled away a little.

"Is that- is that okay?" Dean asked, moving back into the space Cas put between them.

"Of course, Dean, whatever you're comfortable with."

"Thanks, Cas." Dean wrapped an arm around Cas' waist and pulled him in tight. Dean tried to kiss him one last time, but Cas moved his head and buried his it into Dean's neck.

"I'm tired, let's get some sleep." Dean wasn't too sure, his mind a little hazy from being drunk, but he thinks he may have just ruined all the progress they'd been making.

It was much, much less.

Now Dean wasn't sure of two things: his future with Cas, and the future of their family, especially on this street. It was no coincidence that a demon showed up, and it was no coincidence it left without a trace either. Tomorrow he would investigate things for himself, and tomorrow he'd try and fix things with Cas. He knew he'd screw things up, he always did. But maybe this time he'd be man enough to fix them, too. Dean laid his head upon Cas' and ignored how he moved away slightly, before closing his eyes and resting his drunk mind.


	5. Lost and Found

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (5/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **Its so fluffy I'm gonna die + oops not so fluffy.  
**Notes: **Hey guys! :) Sorry its been forever. I get my computer back soon, so I'll be able to update more often again. Thanks for sticking with me, you guys are the best. Beta'd by the lovely and talented TruffleHead as always :) and enjoy I guess!

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

* * *

And so their mundane, ordinary life, went back to normal within a few weeks. Sam and Cas went back to school and Dean even earned a promotion at work, managing the shop a few days a week - although every time he bossed someone around, he felt a little like Bobby was looking down on him before he shook it off and went back to work. They were happy again and the small demon scare seemed to slip from their minds like a foggy, ridiculous nightmare.

It didn't slip from Dean's mind so easily, however, and he was the only one that kept up safety guards and had the occasional overprotective reaction to a seemingly meaningless situation- but nobody talked about his constant state of terror, and he was happy to keep it that way.

Dean pulled out of the garage's gravel driveway, relishing in the leather under his butt and the old tapes blasting from the Impala's stereo. Sam had been borrowing her for the past few days while he'd been staying at his girlfriend's place, and, if he was being honest, he'd missed his baby more than he'd missed Sam. He hadn't seen Cas in over a week, either; he'd decided to go on some "stress relieving college professor retreat". It sounded completely douchey, but Dean had kissed him on the cheek and waved him off anyway, shouting a quick 'I'll miss you' as Cas piled onto a bus with 20 or so balding middle aged men. So for the past few days it'd literally just been Dean and Jimmy in the house. Dean had felt strange, uncomfortable, and scared for the first day, but after that wore off, he basically became a housewife of any reality show ever. He began to actually enjoy his own company and got more done than he ever thought he would. He remained slightly on edge, sleeping with holy water and the demon knife, but he wasn't going to let Sam and Cas come back to a dead Dean Winchester in his bed.

But the solitary confinement week was over, and both Sam and Cas were back. He'd seen Sammy this morning, when he was greeted with bacon, eggs and a _too_ detailed story about his stay at Lydia's. Dean nodded along, ignoring the things he didn't want to know and feeding half his bacon to Jimmy before heading off to work. His morning at work felt longer than usual, and by the time lunch rolled around, he jumped at the bit to leave early and see Cas. Today was Wednesday, otherwise known as Cas' half day. The day they usually spent together, driving around in the Impala and teaching Cas to drive.

He pulled into the university's car park, feeling a little too eager. He straightened his shirt and tried to hide the coy smile that appeared when he saw his favorite blue eyes and the trench coat they dragged along.

"Hello, Dean." Cas was smiling too. Dean didn't know what they were, or what the protocol was when you hadn't seen someone in a week, so he cleared his throat, swallowed his pride, and wrapped his arms around Cas, placing his mouth close to Cas' ear.

"Hey, Cas." he smiled, "I missed you."

Cas' arms folded around Deans body then, and he felt Cas let go of a long breath before he heard a quiet, "I missed you too."

Cas talked about his retreat while Dean drove them out of the city. Cas' smile never left his face and the more he chattered on, the closer he got to Dean. There was a Blue Oyster Cult tape quietly setting the mood and the sound of the engine felt like home. He built up all the courage he had and took Cas' hand in his own. There was a cool breeze on his face and for the first time in his life, things felt peaceful, real and secure. Dean internally laughed at himself, at how corny and romantic he was making this moment. But this was his idea of romance- he'd spent half his life wishing and waiting this. For someone to come along that could handle the life he led, someone that would _want _to ride around in his dumb car and listen to music from a thousand years ago while holding his hand and talking about anything and everything just so he could hear the sound of their voice. He had that with Cas, and if worse came to worse and they have to go back to their old life, Cas could come with them; nothing would have to change. His life could go on and things might even be better. He had more to lose, sure, but he also _had_ more and to him that sounded better than winning the lottery or a good nights sleep. It was the best prize he's ever or will ever receive.

"Where are we going, Dean?" Cas' voice snapped him out of his reverie. Dean looked around and realized he had absolutely no idea where they were or how they had ended up there.

"Its ah- a surprise?" Deans lips quirked up as he turned to face Cas.

"We're lost, aren't we?" Cas was trying to remain serious, but his eyes were giving him away, because like his lips, they hadn't stopped smiling since Dean showed up at the college.

"Okay, I have no idea where we are." Dean admitted, "But, hey, let's just..." Suddenly Dean pulled the car over, hopped out, and leaned his head in the open window. "_You're_ driving us home!" He grinned, before practically skipping to Cas' side of the car.

"Dean, I'm not good at driving." Cas whined as Dean opened his door. Dean didn't reply, instead opting to drag Cas out of the car by his coat. He pulled on the beige fabric until Cas was wrapped in his arms. There was a brief moment of hesitation that passed between the two of them. This was their turning point, or it sure felt that way. They'd shared two quick make out sessions in Dean's room late at night, but they weren't anything yet. They were still just Dean and Castiel. They were still just the pair with the profound bond and the occasional long loving look. They weren't anything more than just roommates, or friends with slight benefits. But Dean wanted to be more.

He wanted them to be that couple that spent a gross amount of time together, that supported each other and were happy. The couple that adopted a few kids and had a small family, the couple that grew old together, and watched their kids succeed and have a family of their own. He wanted to die old and happy in Cas' arms. And for the very first time in his life, that ending felt like more than just a dream.

Dean placed his hand on Cas' cheek and looked into the blue eyes below him.

"I'm glad you're back." Dean smiled, before placing his lips on top of Cas'.

This wasn't like the quick make-out sessions on Dean's bed. It was more. It was softer and calmer, like the clouds drifting from the night sky. Cas' lips moved against his so perfectly, like a puzzle piece he never realized had been missing. Dean never thought he was meant for much, he never believed in fate or divine pairings. But this kiss told him he was wrong. Cas was his other half. God sent Cas to collect Dean from hell to save him in every way imaginable. And maybe he'd always hated God, for what he'd been put through, for all that he'd lost, but God had been setting him up for greatness all along. He'd been setting Dean up for Cas. The ultimate match made it heaven. And Dean had never been more thankful.

"Now," Dean said, finally releasing Cas, "Try not to kill us on the way home".

Cas pulled a bitch face - proving that he spends too much time with Sam - before reaching into Dean's pants pocket and swiping out the keys.

xxx

The sky began to darken as Cas pulled the Impala into the little garage of their little house. They had driven around for hours, completely lost, but not particularly worried about finding their way home. They spent the time getting to know each other. Of course they'd known each other for years, as Dean and Cas. Hunter and angel. Friend and friend. But their relationship was changing, and so they were basically getting to know a whole other person. Cas slipped Dean's keys into his hand and gave it a quick squeeze and Dean smiled, placing a chaste kiss to Cas' forehead. They were Dean and Cas, mechanic and professor. Dean and Cas, roommate and friend. Dean and Cas, best friend and soulmate.

When they walked into the kitchen, Sam was there already, cooking dinner. "For a second there I was gonna be the over protective little brother and call Garth." Sam turned around, wooden spoon in his hand and flour all over his face.

"Good look, Sammy." Dean rubbed his own face where Sam's flour beard was sitting and headed to the fridge.

"Where were you?" Sam asked, wiping the flour from his face with his shirt.

"I was taking Cas for a driving lesson and we got a little off course." Dean smiled.

"We got really lost," Cas added, "and Dean made me drive us home".

Dean and Cas talked about their night while Sam served up dinner. They sat at the little table together, chattering and eating and smiling- a reunion, of sorts, after the week they'd spent apart. Sam eventually changed the subject to his week with Lydia and Dean smiled through every gross story a second time. Dean looked around the table at the two goofs he adored. Sam going into finite detail about his sex life and Cas looking horrified. It may not have been the family he had expected, but it _was _his family, and he was happy. And, after all, wasn't that all that mattered? Dean placed a kiss atop Cas' head before heading out into the backyard to feed Jimmy. He sighed into the night air. Dean Winchester was happy. What a strange and unnatural sight, he thought.

xxx

It was cold wherever he was. He could feel goosebumps rising all over his body in order to create warmth. It wasn't working. He shivered.

"Hello?" He yelled into the darkness, only to hear his own hoarse voice echoed back to him.

Dean Winchester, happy? Never.


	6. The Demon, No Witch and A Warehouse

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (6/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.  
**Notes: **Part Two is almost done so I won't leave you hanging for too long I promise. Remember when this story was fluffy? Neither do I. Hope you enjoy Cas' side. Thanks for reading. Beta'd as always by the lovely TruffleHead :)

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

Part One.

The morning light teased his skin, tickling and weaving around his cold pores. Castiel was happy. Something he hadn't been in a long time, maybe never. Not truly. He was brought up not to believe in emotions, not to feel anything- especially doubt. The day he'd met Dean Winchester, everything had changed. He felt protective and instinctive, brave yet weak, and all of it at the same time. But most of all, he was scared- scared _all _the time. Scared that Dean would never find happiness, scared Dean would never be done with hunting.

Now, though, it was years later; Dean was done. Dean was happy. He squirmed at the memories, thinking that part of the reason for that was _him_. In under one second, he was suddenly feeling hot and fragile. He was still getting used to this emotions thing.

He turned over to snuggle into Dean again, but was faced with emptiness instead. He patted the bed, where his friend should be. Nobody was beside him. He stretched and reached for his clock. Dean was gone, way earlier than usual. But both mechanic Dean and hunter Dean had proven to be quite random and erratic, so he thought nothing of it, rolling out of bed and slinking into the kitchen for coffee. Castiel was a human. He did human activities and made stupid human mistakes.

Cas smiled at the coffee machine, remembering Dean's lesson and how frustrated he'd gotten at him. Chucking the machine out the window and having to buy a new one. This Dean wasn't any better with patience as the last one.

Sam joined him in the kitchen about a half an hour later; they drank some coffee and talked about Lydia, Dean, and the weird vampire novel a professor at the college had given Cas to read. He liked all of the time he now got to spend with Sam, in this different environment. This Sam was different- younger, even. And it made Cas smile, to see Sam always smiling. After all he'd been through and sacrificed, he really deserved it.

"Dean not up?" Sam asked, heading to the fridge. He always, without fail, cooked breakfast for all of them. It was tradition. One that Cas really looked forward to each morning.

"He was already gone when I woke up, I assumed he had an early start at the garage." Cas smiled, sitting down to watch Sam cook. He'd have to learn to cook one of these days, although he knew his food could never taste as good as Sam's.

"I have a question." Sam turned to face Cas, spatula waving in the air, "I know if I asked Dean, he'd just skate over it and I'd never know." A smirk crept onto Sam's face and Cas felt uncomfortable immediately; he didn't like where this conversation was heading. "What's going on between you and Dean? Or, I guess: what are you? Are you a couple? Are you still just friends? I mean, I know that for years you've had the heart eyes and the 'relationship' without actually having a relationship, but you guys have been acting differently now. You never stay in your own room, and Dean kissed you on the _forehead _last night. It's sweet and I'm just... I'm just curious I guess". Cas gulped.

For the first time in Castiel's very long life, he didn't know what to say. Dean had always told him that he didn't have a filter, and he was probably right. But Cas had been human for awhile now. He acted semi-appropriately at work, and sometimes held his tongue when and where it was necessary. But now, Sam was staring at him, expecting an answer, and all Cas could do was smile awkwardly in response.

"Ah-" Cas cleared his throat, "We are what we've always been, Sam."

"Don't give me that crap." Sam turned around to keep cooking, babbling on about relationships and some other stuff that Cas tuned out, before, a good 10 minutes later, turned to face Cas again.

"I don't care, you know. I think it's nice that Dean finally has someone that understands him and that he's comfortable with. More family he can rely on." Sam smiled and Cas did too.

"Dean means much more to me than I ever imagined he would." Cas said quietly. "I was always made to believe that emotions clouded your judgement, that feeling anything other than loyalty was unproductive, but Dean makes feeling so easy. I never believed in the love that I saw others having until I fell, and I suddenly found myself loving Dean." Cas felt his cheeks heat and a strange feeling washed over him. "A different love than the one I had for my brothers and my Father. Different, but maybe stronger_._" Cas suddenly found the coffee cup he was holding utterly fascinating. "I don't think I'd ever be the same again, if I somehow lost him."

Sam didn't respond, just smiled and turned around. The rest of the breakfast passed with simple conversation, about Sam's studies and Cas' work and after slipping a bit of bacon to Jimmy under the table, Cas slipped out the door and off to work.

xxx

Cas could sometimes only barely remember his life before he fell; what he had been and what he was now. He'd felt so powerful as an Angel, so strong and determined. And though he was only a Professor now, he sometimes felt that same sense of power when he was with his students. They listened to everything he said, they smiled when he spoke, and he was well- liked and respected on campus. His fellow staff members asked him out for drinks, and he detected many a flirtatious look from the female teachers. He liked his job and his coworkers athough he never hung out with them out of school or took them up on their drink offers, opting always to hang out with Dean instead, especially on his half days.

Cas was already smiling as he unlocked the kitchen door. He'd had an especially long day, with a new class and a test to monitor, not to mention the fact that Dean hadn't text him once throughout the day. He couldn't wait to be home. Jimmy greeted him at the door, jumping up and smothering him with kisses, despite Cas' protests. He dropped his bag at the door and went straight to the fridge, grabbing some snacks, and headed to Dean's room, which was now practically his room too. He expected to see Dean there, but the room was empty. Usually when Cas got home from work, Dean would be sprawled out on the bed they shared, sometimes reading, but usually playing some stupid App that he'd got addicted to.

Cas grabbed out his phone and added to the few text messages he'd already sent Dean today.

'You're not home? Call me when you get this.'

After 15 minutes and no phone call, Cas sent another text.

'I'm starting to get worried, where are you?'

5 minutes passed and he sent another text.

'Seriously, Dean, this isn't funny.'

3 minutes passed.

'Dean? Please just respond. Let me know you're okay.'

1 minute.

'I'm calling Sam. We'll find you, I promise.'

30 seconds.

'Hold on, okay? I can't lose you.'

Sam ditched the second half of class and walked into Dean's room around 10 minutes after Cas had called.

"What's going on?" Sam sounded panicked.

"I haven't heard from Dean all day." Cas started pacing. "He was gone before us this morning. But he always responds to me! Always. And I haven't heard from him, and he still isn't home, and I'm worried." Sam stopped Cas in his tracks.

"We'll bring him home, don't worry." Sam said, and Cas nodded.

Cas had never been afraid to lose something before. He had always been alone. Yes, he had his brothers, and a cause, but he had been one single solitary angel in a group full of thousands of angels. But when he'd met the Winchesters, that'd changed. He had become a part of something. A different cause, a friend group, a family. He loved them, he loved being human, he loved this life they'd created, and he didn't want to go back. He had something now, and he'd do whatever he had to to hold on to that.


	7. The Demon, No Witch and A Warehouse Pt2

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (6/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **Its so fluffy I'm gonna die.  
**Notes: **Hey all :) I am so so so so so so so sorry about the delay. I had a lot going on and I didn't have time to write, let alone think. This is quite short, because I didn't want to leave you waiting much longer. I have started Chapter 7, so I promise it won't be that long between chapters again. So sorry lovely angels, please forgive me. Also the fluff will return soon :D happy reading! Beta'd by the one, the only TruffleHead :)

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

Part Two.

Deans arms were aching. Was he hanging from somewhere? He squirmed, but his arms only ached more. It was cold here, too. Goosebumps were covering his goosebumps and it was right about now that he missed their tiny little house in the suburbs. He missed his bed. He missed cuddling up to Cas at night. He missed their simple life. He squirmed again, but he knew there was no getting out of the hold he was in.

"Hello?" Dean called out. His own voice echoed back to him.

"Sammy? Cas?" He screamed this time, only to hear them repeat once more. This better be some stupid prank by some local hunters, because he really wasn't in the mood for some snarky, too- far- up- his- own- ass demon.

"Ah, you're awake."

His ears a familiar Irish drawl, and before he'd fully processed the voice, his mouth opened of it's own accord. "Crowley," he growled. Just the snarky too- far- up- his- own- ass demon he wasn't in the mood for.

"Dean. Long time, no talk." Crowley said. The cold, dark space around him started lighting, to reveal a warehouse. It was cold and wet, basically Crowley's usual hang. Dean closed his eyes and sent a quick prayer to Cas, even though he knew he'd never hear it.

_'If you've got any of that angel juice left, use it to hear this. Crowley has me, I'm in a warehouse somewhere. Come on, Cas, zap your cute little butt over here.'_

He opened his eyes to the same dimly lit warehouse and sighed. No Cas.

"It has been awhile." Dean said, almost thoughtfully. "But enough of the small talk. How the hell did you get out?"

"Hello? _King _of Hell," Crowley gestured to himself, smirking.

"And we were freaking out over some low level demon." Dean shook his head.

"Bit rusty, are we?" Crowley poured a glass of scotch and came to sit beside a hanging Dean Winchester. It'd been awhile since he'd been pushed up against a wall or thrown around a kitchen. Right now, hanging by his arms from a cold and dirty roof actually felt like unfamiliar territory. He _was_ rusty.

"You know, I thought about just freaking you out some more, but it got a little boring." Crowley skimmed the rim of his cup, "And since I'm the only one up here, I thought I'd make things a little more... interesting." Dean didn't respond, letting Crowley mutter on about his evil plan.

"I was gonna take Sam, but then... has he gotten bigger? And then of course little innocent Cas was the next option." Dean squirmed in his hold. "But I wasn't too sure whether or not he'd lost his angel mojo completely or was just pretending." Crowley stood up, drink in hand, and started pacing, "So while you and Cas were snuggled up in bed together last night, I-" Crowley turned to Dean, raising his eyebrows, "What's that about anyway?"

"Weren't you busy telling me your evil plan?" Dean asked, feeling more uncomfortable than terrified now.

"I'm much more interested in his." Crowley sat back down, crossing his legs. "Go on."

"Does it matter?" Dean asked.

Crowley smiled. "Not particularly, but I like seeing you squirm."

Dean huffed like a two year old after temper tantrum.

"As you were saying," Crowley gestured for Dean to continue.

"Well, ever since we stopped hunting, the atmosphere has been different and we're just... well... Look, I don't know okay? Are you gonna let me go, or are we gonna have to do this the hard way?" Dean could feel his cheeks heating. He hoped Crowley's inflated ego would save him from having to discuss that subject any further. He'd rather be physically tortured, thank you very much.

"Well, if you don't want to torture yourself," Crowley shrugged, "I guess I can help you out." Crowley twisted his hand as the inside of Dean's stomach started knotting and twisting uncomfortably until he was so short of breath that he thought his lungs were going to come up through his mouth any second.

xXx

It was dark again. Cold, too. Dean's goosebumps were still covered in goosebumps and the ropes around his wrists hadn't loosened any. He started to wonder if he'd ever see Sammy or Jimmy again. He wondered about the garage and all his new friends; would he ever get to talk shop and joke around as if he didn't have a care in the world ever again? He wondered if he'd ever see the wood paneling of their small house again, or the quaint little kitchen where they spent most of their time together, eating fried bacon and over cooked toast that tasted like warmth and security.

But most of all, he wondered if he'd ever see Cas again. He wondered if he'd get to wake up to blue eyes and bad jokes. He'd never been afraid to lose anything so important before. He'd never valued the sanctity of his life on its own, or in relation to others. He had never felt worthy enough to _have _something important enough that he wouldn't want to leave. The darkness around him suddenly felt like it was closing in on him and as the goosebumps left his skin he was acutely aware that this was the end. Peace washed over him as a flood of good memories swarmed his mind and he smiled, dying wasn't so bad, at least he got to see those blue eyes one more time before everything went black.

"Dean! C'mon, Dean!"

He was getting flashes of light, hints of movement, his eyes focused and unfocused every few seconds and all he could hear was echoing, as if he were standing in a large hall. At least he knew he wasn't dead; this wasn't heaven, and it definitely wasn't hell or purgatory either. The flashes of bright light continued and he'd given up trying to focus until he got a hint of baby blue in his eye line. He willed his eyes to focus on the person in front of him. Seas of blue rushed into his tired eyes and it was the first time he'd felt his heart beat since he'd woken in chaos. Everything became so clear for a few seconds. His life, his choices, who he wanted to be. He was in love with the blue eyes that greeted him every morning. He felt warm, yet rough skin touch his face and he winced. He was in love with the hands that handed him coffee and rested on his shoulders. He heard a rough, deep voice pleading at him to hold on. He was in love with the voice that reassured him and made him smile. He was in love with Cas. His eyes began to sting and the blue paradise in front of him started to wash away. It was then he realised he was crying.

"Dean, shh, its okay, I've got you." He fell into Cas' arms. "I've got you."


	8. Memories All Alone In The Moonlight

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (7/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **Its a bit painful, sorry.  
**Notes: **Hihi :) not as long a wait this time and extra long to make up for the lack of updates. Beta'd by TruffleHead :)

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

* * *

It was warm and bright the next time Dean Winchester opened his eyes; his vision was blurred and his chest felt tight for some reason. He blinked against the fluorescent lights and let out a long, heavy breath. A cool breeze rushed past him, causing goosebumps to trail over his body, chasing each other to his toes. He shivered against the wind and reached his heavy arms out to pull the blanket over himself. It was then he noticed his attachment.

His eyes trailed down his goosebump covered skin to find a hand clinging onto his. He followed the hand to its owner gulped. His brown hair fluttered up and down as his breath blew it into the air every few seconds. His chest was slowly rising and falling and his large warm hand was tightly secured onto his own. Cas. Dean gulped again. He attempted to pull his hand from the other man's, but discovered he couldn't. Despite Cas' peaceful sleeping figure, he was still pretty strong. Dean laid their hands back down on the bed and shifted the blanket up on one side. He closed his eyes against the light and drifted back into a restless sleep filled with images of Cas' hand clinging tightly onto his own.

It was dark the next time he awoke; colder, too. He shifted in his bed, lifting the blanket back over his chest and arms from where it had shifted during his rest. He could hear quiet murmurs just a few steps away, and he stopped fidgeting to listen in. The familiar concerned yet reassuring tone of Sammy snuck into his ears, making his heart thump with a fondness he couldn't describe. He closed his eyes, under the impression he could hear better that way.

"But what if he doesn't wake up at all? He's not used to being constantly beaten up and tortured anymore, Sam. Things are different now, this is different." The voice was deep, but not rough. Instead, it flowed through his ears easily, filling his entire body with a strange kind of warmth. He shivered against the sudden temperature change.

"It's Dean, Cas, he's not gonna die." Sammy said matter-o-factly, like it was the simplest answer in the universe.

"But you can't deny that it is still a possibility. We need to prepare ourselves." Cas responded and Dean thought he heard tears in his voice. His mind struggled against the emotion he heard in his friend's voice; it wasn't like Cas at all. "He could die, Sam. We could end up alone, without him, forever. We would just have to go back to-" Cas paused, his words faltering, and he heard Sam comfort the other man. Cas was sobbing quietly and Dean's heart tightened behind his ribcage. Suddenly his body was covered in goosebumps all over again. He wanted to get up, he wanted to speak, but he couldn't do either. It was as if his lips didn't work. He tried to wiggle his toes, too, but they remained frozen beneath his blanket. Son of a bitch, he thought.

"It'll be fine, Cas, I promise. Everything will be completely fine." Sam kept repeating. Dean's heart beat harder against his chest. They never came into the room, so eventually Dean gave up trying to speak and simply closed his eyes against the darkness. Instead of sleeping, he tried to pressure his brain into remembering how he ended up in here. He pushed against a seemingly stubborn blank slate, but only got flashes of the past. Screams, smells, dirt. The usual with him. He said son of a bitch over and over again in his head until he fell asleep once more.

He woke to hushed talking once more, but this time it was light. Cas was facing away from him, looking out the window. He was clinging to the phone next to his ear and scratching the back of his neck nervously every few seconds.

"No, that's okay, just keeping looking after Jimmy. No, I'm sure. No, Charlie, I do not need anything," He gave a hollow little laugh and Dean's heart tightened again. "Yes, okay, bring pie, I'm certain the smell will lure Dean out of his coma within seconds." He paused, letting out a long sigh. "They're doing another CT today to check for activity." Another long pause. "I know, me too. I'll see you when you get here." Cas hung up the phone and lent his head against the window.

Dean wanted to scream out to him, but his mouth still wasn't working. Desperate, he lifted his arm and pushed the closest item to him onto the floor. There was a loud crash as a vase of flowers shattered. Cas whipped his head around and Dean smiled, shrugging his shoulders.

"Dean? You're awake?!" Cas shouted. Dean nodded quickly as Cas ran across the room, slipping slightly in the spilt water. He jumped onto Dean's bed and pressed his body close to Dean's, wrapping his warm arms around his neck. Cas didn't speak for a long time, just holding Dean tightly in his arms.

"I'm very glad that you're awake," he finally muttered quietly into Dean's ear, before pulling away and wiping away a few stray tears. Dean focused in on those little salty droplets falling from Cas' face and he tilted his head. He'd never seen Cas cry before.

"Are you okay? How do you feel? Are you in a lot of pain?" Cas asked. Dean shrugged before pointing to his mouth, signaling that he couldn't speak. Cas stared for a moment before rushing to the other side of the room and coming back with a pen and paper. Dean scribbled a little message and then held it up to Cas.

'I can't talk, I've tried. I can't really move my legs either. I'm not in a lot of pain, but I don't remember- I can't even remember the last thing I remember... I know that doesn't make sense, but my mind is blank and I've tried but nothing is coming back.'

Cas took his hand and held it tightly. Dean pulled away, and Cas looked like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks.

"You have two broken legs," Cas started, "you were hit and tortured around your chest and throat, so the voice loss is only temporary until your voice box heals." Cas smiled sadly. "The doctor warned us that you could have some short term memory loss, but he said it would return eventually." Dean smiled this time, flipping the page to write again:

'Where's Sammy?'

Cas pulled out his phone once he saw Deans message. "Sam! Yes, just now." Cas smiled into the phone before hanging up.

Dean began writing again.

'Who's Jimmy?'

Cas stared at the page for what seemed like hours. He blinked and he blinked and he scratched the back of his neck. His eyes watered and the most magnificent shade of blue flashed into his eye line before Cas wiped a sleeve over his face and the colour washed away. Dean quickly scribbled another message.

'Are you human?'

The brilliant blue emerged in Cas' eyes again, releasing a few tears as he bowed his head. "You say you don't remember the last thing you remember, but how far back is that; how much do you remember? You know me, and Sam, and Charlie?" Dean nodded, "You remember what happened last year? To Kevin? To us?" Dean shook his head no, and Cas sighed.

'I'm sorry, I'm trying' Dean scribbled.

Cas smiled before pulling Dean into his arms again. Dean wasn't entirely sure why, but he accepted the hug and closed his eyes against Cas' hair. Sammy and Charlie turned up about 20 minutes later, Charlie immediately curled up beside him and refused to leave his side and Sam talked at him for 20 minutes straight while Dean just nodded along.

He was surprised to see Cas beside his bed every morning. He never left. He hardly ate and he spoke to the doctor what seemed like every few hours. He helped Dean with his speech therapy and he told him different stories to try and trigger memories, but Dean's mind refused to connect with any of them. They smiled softly at each other and Dean sensed that there had been a large shift in their relationship, but he wasn't entirely sure what it was, and, if he was being completely honest with himself, he didn't exactly want to know.

Under the doctor's orders, Sam and Cas gave Dean large details of the things he'd missed, in a final attempt to bring his memory back. Dean had cried when he learned that Kevin had died, cried even harder when Cas told Dean the story of how he fell. He laughed when he learned they'd closed the gates of hell, and tried to smile but failed when he learnt that they'd given up the hunting life completely. Everything was so different now, and Dean didn't know how to get the blank black space currently occupying his mind to fill with colour.

Dean was let out of hospital a week later with semi-functioning legs and a husky voice. His memory had returned slightly. The last thing he remembered was simply driving Kevin to a field before his brain shuts down and starts from the beginning. Sam drove them back through an unfamiliar town, into an unfamiliar suburb and finally into a unfamiliar driveway. Cas helped him out of the car and into an unfamiliar house through an unfamiliar little wooden kitchen and into a unfamiliar little bedroom. Charlie stayed with them while Dean recovered. She helped Sam with the cooking and talked to Dean while the boys were at college. Dean didn't know who he was supposed to be, here, or what it was that they all were. He filled his days by watching the sci-fi channel with Charlie against his will and willing his memory to come back with zero results each day.

Time passed fast with nothing to do but heal and before he knew it, he'd been home two weeks. It wasn't too long before the nightmares started, either. Flashes of colour and smells that he couldn't escape. He woke one night screaming and sweating and panting, images of something he couldn't quite place still flashing through his mind. "Dean?! Dean, are you okay?" He felt warm hands on his shoulders, squeezing and shaking him out of his slumber. "Dean!" A hand pressed against his forehead, breaking him from his haze.

"Cas?" He scrambled for Cas' hand.

"Shh, I'm here," He pulled Dean into his chest and for once Dean didn't object, just let himself be held by his friend's strong hands. Cas laid down beside him, letting Dean rest against his chest. Cas was running his fingers though his sweaty hair and Dean felt confused and scared but he closed his eyes anyway and allowed himself to fall asleep.

The sun broke through the curtains in the very early morning. Dean groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. He snuggled back into the body next to him, closing his eyes and wrapping an arm around their waist. He froze.

"Cas?! What the hell?" He jumped, jerking away from the man beside him. Blue eyes peeped out from behind heavy eyelids as Cas stretched and yawned in the large bed.

"Mm, good...morning." There was a smile evident in Cas' voice and Dean felt a sharp pain strike through his chest.

"Cas, what are you doing? I, what happ- why are you?" Dean stuttered and stumbled over his words, feeling stupid and nervous and not at all like himself.

"Oh, shit." Dean had never heard Cas swear before, and it made something stir low and deep in his stomach, "I- Dean, I'm, I apologise, I must've fallen asleep after you, well, you were very scared and I, I'm so sorry, I'll let you go back to sleep, I-" Cas shook his head and Dean just stared at him as he got out of the bed.

"Cas, this..." Dean cleared his throat and Cas stopped by the door, "this isn't the first time you've slept in my bed is it?" Dean scratched the back of his neck, not entirely sure why he spoke up.

"We were much more than friends before your accident." Cas managed a small smile. "Now we're much less." He left the room and Dean laid back down on the bed. What had his life become since he'd left the road? Cas was human, and they were what? A couple? He shook his head. Dean Winchester didn't do relationships. And he certainly didn't do Cas.


	9. Empty Lots and Coffee Pots

**Title: **The Little Wooden Kitchen In The Suburbs (9/?)  
**Author: **craystiel  
**Rating: **PG (For now)  
**Pairing: **Dean/Castiel. Bonus domestic!Team Free Will  
**Disclaimer: **I don't own the characters, all rights belong to Supernatural.  
**Spoilers: **Based off the Season 8 storyline I suppose.  
**Warnings: **FLUFFY  
**Notes: **Sorry its been so long again, but y'know life is in the way. Enjoy! Beta'd by the very talented and patient TruffleHead :)

**Summary: **It's been a few months since they shut the gates of hell forever. They've given up hunting for a simpler life. But Dean, he's having a little trouble adjusting.

* * *

It had been three very long months since he had woken in that hospital bed. Each day was much like the last. Dean Winchester woke up, sometimes with Cas in his bed swearing and apologizing and sometimes he woke alone. He ate breakfast with Sammy and Cas and fed his leftovers to Jimmy. 4 days of the week, Sam went to school, 5 days of the week Cas went too. On Wednesdays, Cas came home early and they had lunch. On Saturdays, Sam went to his girlfriend's and on Sundays they all spent the day together, as Dean had discovered was somewhat of a family tradition. Sometimes he had visitors: Jody, Garth, Charlie, people from work he never remembered. He had dinner with his family, Sam studied, Cas marked papers and Dean watched TV and then he went to bed, sometimes sleeping well, sometimes rid with nightmares. Yes, Dean Winchester led a very mundane boring life. Each day much like the last.

And he hated every single minute of it.

The sun was peaking through his curtains and he could make out the faint shadow of Cas beside him, curled up in a very small ball. Dean was still having trouble trying to understand their relationship. He knew Cas as a somewhat unreliable badass angel who had made mistakes but nonetheless was a part of his family. But the Dean he'd woken up as knew him in a different way. No matter how hard he thought, he just couldn't wrap his head around it. Of course he'd gotten used to Cas sleeping next to him. He tried to stop it initially, but it proved to be much harder than Dean had thought. He gave up and decided to let his friend get some much needed rest.

It'd been months now and there were still large holes in Deans memory. Large holes being the entire last year and some change. He got flashes in his dreams sometimes, but he usually kept those to himself, unsure of whether or not his mind was playing tricks on him. Sometimes, those dreams involved Cas and soft touches to his face, fingers pulling through his hair and lips on top of his own. Butterflies arched up in his stomach and he felt his cheeks heat up. Whatever he did or didn't feel for his friend, he wanted to be sure before he made their little friendship into something much more.

Dean crawled out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping angel beside him. He wrote a quick note and left it on his pillow for Cas to read when he woke up. He opened a drawer on his tallboy and pulled on the first two things his hands touched. He looked back at Cas and small surge in his stomach made his cheeks heat before he made his way outside. Saturdays weren't a particularly busy day for either of them, so Dean decided to take a walk to clear his head. He walked and he walked, searching his brain for memories long gone now. He walked until his legs cried for help, collapsing down into an empty lot on the outskirts of their suburb. He silently cursed the suburban life for making him even more unfit than he already was. He laid back eventually, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at the blue sky. He had never been one for peace and quiet, usually opting for blasting out the bad thoughts and nightmares with whatever tapes his Dad had left behind. But Sammy had the impala and all Dean had was the wind, so he closed his eyes against the sky and tried to do what Cas would probably do, listen to nature. His plan worked for a little over 3 seconds before he found himself humming Metalica without even realising it. He watched the clouds to the soundtrack of his voice for what felt like hours, refusing to give into the sleep pushing down his eyelids, determined to make some progress with his scattered thoughts.

"Hello Dean." Cas' deep drawl pulled him from his revere, the familiarity of it burning a fresh wound into his already punctured memory.

"Hey, Cas." Dean found himself smiling, despite everything unsaid between them. Cas sat a little away from him, looking - dare he say it - cute in his white dress shirt and suit pants, both rolled up in the warm sun. He sat, legs crossed, head down, facing Dean.

"I'm sorry." Cas' hands lay in his lap, eyes focused on anything but Dean.

"For?" Dean focused his eyes on Cas' hands too, watched as he wrung them together and then shook them out, repeating the action over and over again.

"Dean." Cas looked up and their eyes met, the tone in Cas' voice making a smirk creep onto his face.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Cas. You are being you, I'm the lost one here and I'm the one ruining things between us, ruining our little 'family' or whatever." He sighed, letting his head fall backwards as his legs stretched out in front of him, arms balancing him from behind, "I feel so foreign here, Cas."

"I do understand, Dean," their eyes met briefly again before Dean focused his eyes on the blue above him. "As you know, I had to adjust to this life pretty fast. I had to learn not only to become a suburbanite, as Sam would say, but I also had to learn to be human," Cas chuckled, causing butterflies to rush to Deans stomach, "I wish you could remember the amount of coffee pots we went through."

"Coffee pots?" Dean lifted his head to catch a glimpse of a toothy grinned Castiel.

"Yes. I believe you'd understand all of our struggles to fit in here, if you could just remember that one tiny, silly little detail."

"Lets go for a drive." Cas got up, dusting the grass off of his pants and walking over to Dean.

"Sam has the car, genius." Cas rolled his eyes and fell down beside Dean on the grass.

"We could steal one."

"Castiel! What a horrible thing to suggest!" Cas burst out laughing, holding his stomach as he rolled into Dean. For a moment Dean saw a flash of the future instead of the past. Cas and him, old and grey, Cas' blue eyes bright with laughter, and Dean's heart still thumping just as hard as it was now. This could all be so easy, couldn't it?

Dean leaped up off the ground, "Well come on."

xxx

They were driving down a road neither of them knew, Cas was still giggling, sitting low down in the passenger seat, his feet on the dash. The sun was casting a yellow glow on the whole scene and Dean felt like laughing, this all seemed so romantic.

"Well that's the first time I've ever stolen a car." Cas smiled, still laughing a little.

"You know, next time I pick, because this piece of crap barely goes the speed limit."

"Next time?" Dean didn't have to look over at Cas to know his eyebrows were raised, but he looked anyway, a bright eyed Castiel looking back at him.

"This was fun, Dean," Cas focused his eyes back in front of him, "but next week I vote something with less risk of us going to jail."

Dean smirked, "But Cas, those are the best ones."

They drove the car to the edge of town, giggling like two little school girls as they fled the scene of their crime. Cas grabbed hold of Deans hand, pulling him to follow. Cas lead them to another empty lot, pulling Dean down onto the ground with him once they reached the grass.

"It was 5." Cas smiled, Dean looking down upon him.

"What was 5?"

"Coffee pots. We went through 5 in the first week of us moving in because both you and Sam got frustrated at my inability to learn a simple human task. You don't need to feel foreign, Dean, you're exactly where you belong."


End file.
